Oneshot: Lovesick
by colouredred
Summary: A sense of familiarity has always existed between the two of them - the consequences of growing up close by each other. Makoto has always done his best to be there for her, through every struggle and every sickness. Makoto/OC


**Disclaimer: I don't own 'Free!' and consequently any of it's characters. Reiko Yamamoto belongs to me.**

**Please enjoy :)**

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><p><em>Lovesick<em>

As Makoto faced the door, fingers twisting around one another, he couldn't conceive of a single way to approach the situation. It felt wrong, impolite – at the very least, he should have knocked or rang the doorbell.

But then he recalled the text, her invitation to just come on in. So he knew the door was unlocked, but still he hesitated. Maybe it was because of the intention with which he came.

Confessing to Reiko Yamamoto was not a simple thing.

That was why he would do it now, when she was weakened by her illness. Makoto figured that she would be more forgiving, less harsh, while she had a cold. Cowardly though it was, he couldn't avoid his nature or hers. The best he could manage was to gather his determination, as he finally turned the handle.

Stepping inside, he found Reiko's apartment to be gloomy and scarcely lit. It figured that it would be, given she was the only one home. From her texts, Makoto had inferred her father wouldn't be home until late that night.

"Reiko!"

She didn't reply, leaving Makoto to wonder how to proceed. Most likely, she would be in her room. She liked sleep just a little too much, so he hoped he wouldn't disturb her. Thankfully, Makoto had visited her house before, which was only natural of friends, and so he could easily find his way around.

"I hope you're awake!" Makoto called out again.

The door closed behind him, and before he stepped onto the carpet, he left his shoes by the door. His school bag was something he also dropped beside them.

The apartment was small, but the perfect size for a family of two. Makoto had always wondered what it would be like to be an only child. The impression he had from both Reiko and Haruka was one of loneliness – though their introverted personalities might have contributed to that.

The trip up short hall, to her room, seemed far longer than the mere minutes it was. Every conceivable insecurity that he had ever had returned to him, worry upon worry mounting. He doubted himself now, when before he had been so certain. Was he really in a position to be confessing to Reiko? But then again, he couldn't _not_ do it. He had made the mistake of mentioning his visiting her at school, and what had begun as simple well-wishing had now turned into this – Nagisa's insistence it was the perfect timing had pushed him over the edge.

When Makoto reached her room, he stopped short in the open doorway. The darkness loomed out at him, foreboding, as a single voice sighed from within the depths, "Oh, Makoto."

"Reiko?" He replied, unsure it was her when he couldn't see a thing.

"Yeah, just wait a second," she ordered, voice croaky, "I'll get up."

"What? You don't need to trouble-!"

"Shut up, Makoto, I know you're scared of the dark."

"Just turn on a light?" he suggested.

"_No_." Reiko hissed, with surprising audibility.

A figure emerged from the greyness, and as they moved into the light, Makoto understood why it seemed so shapeless. When Reiko had said 'get up' she didn't mean it traditionally – she walked with her doona still wrapped around her.

Makoto stared at her, for just a moment. Her long, black hair was a mess caught underneath the blanket, while her fringe just barely looked like one. Her eyes were heavily hooded, blinking slowly, while her nose was a bright red. She stared back at Makoto evenly, with bright, indigo eyes.

"You look really unwell, Rei-chan."

"Thank you."

He smiled at last, as softly as he always had. "Are you sure you don't want me to come back later?"

"I told you it was fine, so it's fine."

"I feel bad for making you-" Makoto got no further.

Reiko stepped forward out of the bedroom, shouldering past Makoto without a second thought. "Let's go. We can sit in the living room."

"You shouldn't be walking around." Makoto sighed, though it was obvious he was smiling, "I guess that leaves me no choice."

Frowning, Reiko started to turn back. "Choice?" she echoed, but very soon afterwards she spoke no further. Her lips pressed shut, sealed against the uncharacteristic shriek Makoto paid no heed to. Given her average height and slight figure, it was almost too easy for Makoto to pick her up.

In her surprise, Reiko released the doona in favour of grabbing ahold of her friend. She wasn't even conscious of her nails digging in to his back, thinking only that she was no longer on the ground.

"Did I scare you, Reiko?"

"You did n-!" she cut herself off, unable to finish the lie. Instead, she puffed out her cheeks and looked steadfastly away from him. "_Idiot_."

"Sorry." Makoto chuckled, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

He was actually rather amused. Reiko had always been a serious girl, rarely finding cause to smile or show emotion, and so Makoto always found her more endearing when she did. He liked it best, seeing her expression animated – the quirk of her brow, the breathless parting of her lips. Her blush, of course, was incredibly cute.

"I brought you a get-well gift." Makoto declared as he walked.

"You shouldn't."

"But I did."

Once in the lounge room, he sidestepped the coffee table before collapsing down onto the couch. The leather was cool, a sensation well received by Reiko's feverish skin. Her weight settled against Makoto's legs, just as he secured his arms around the cocoon of her blanket.

"You haven't let go of me yet." Reiko remarked, an eyebrow poised in question.

"Neither have you." Replied Makoto cheerily.

With an imperceptible scowl, she slipped her fingers from his neck and he was left to regret his words. At least she didn't attempt to move away from him, and contended herself to lying across Makoto.

"So, ah, the gift…"

Reiko's ears perked, and she noticeably brightened. "Yes?" she asked Makoto, feigning coolness.

"It's in my bag," Makoto explained, rather than standing up to go get them, "It's only a box of chocolates."

Reiko eyed him curiously, before her lips began to curve into a smile, stretching the two moles under her lips – though she would insist they were freckles. "Thank you, Makoto."

"I remembered you liked chocolate," he replied conversationally, "Though the present was actually Nagisa's idea. Everyone's hoping you get better soon, Rei-chan. We miss you."

He, specifically, felt the absence of her a little more profoundly than anyone else. Surprisingly, as he spoke, Reiko's expression softened even further.

"Haruka wouldn't, however."

Makoto smiled. "He doesn't dislike you, Reiko."

"Enlighten me." She ordered, returning to impassiveness.

He stumbled then, a little scared to continue. He had so many doubts about this confession of his – how would she respond? How would it make him feel? – yet there was one persistent thought. It was the perfect time, if ever there was such a thing.

"I think Haru is jealous," Makoto began slowly, eyes averted and heart pounding, "Because I spend a lot of my time with you and because…"

"Because what?" Reiko was firm, arms-crossed, but her expression betrayed her worry and anticipation.

"Because I like you so much."

He had finally said it – the simple truth in a confession he had made more daunting than it really was. Makoto could now only wait for her reply, for her to process his words.

She was staring at him, eyes wide and of a vivid, indigo colour. The seams of her lips parted, suddenly dry, and Reiko was no longer sure how to breathe. Makoto had taken that from her, simply by being near. His eyes were on the opposite wall, avoiding her entirely.

Her nose began to tickle. Reiko tried, tried hard, to supress it but to no avail – she sneezed loudly, three times in a row, and barely had the sense to turn to away from Makoto.

"Reiko?"

"Sorry," she muttered, pulling a handkerchief from a pocket in her hidden pyjamas, "I hope that didn't get on you."

Makoto nodded slowly, lips teasing her with an easy smile. Very suddenly, he began to laugh. Reiko finished wiping her nose, tossing the handkerchief onto the table. Makoto persisted, laughing lightly but hard enough to double over and in the end had to count down to calm himself.

"Sorry," he chuckled, "I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright." Reiko assured. She had to sling an arm around him, as awkward as she felt doing that, to pull herself upright.

Makoto met her gaze, the light in his own green eyes morphing into something other than happiness. He looked so serious when his mind returned to his confession. Reiko understood, but that understanding didn't change that she only chose to say, "If Haruka really is jealous, I can only say that he needs to find a girlfriend of his own."

"Of his own?"

Reiko nodded firmly, though her eyes flickered away from Makoto. She recognised that look of dawning understanding at her implication.

"Rei-chan," Makoto began slowly, "What do you mean?"

She blushed darkly, her cheeks now matching the colour of her nose. Makoto's eyes were glued to her face, unable to look away. He had never felt such an irresistible urge to kiss someone, and before he really knew what he was doing, Makoto had switched their positions.

Using his arms around her, he twisted around so that Reiko was underneath and he crouching over her. One leg nestled between hers, though the doona was still wrapped around her, and Reiko shot out her arms to grab him in case she fell.

Now that he had confessed, Makoto didn't feel the need to be insecure about anything. She knew the one thing he had kept from her, and it left for nothing else to fear. Makoto would worry about her rejection when he heard it from her lips.

"Please." He insisted, though he couldn't decide if he wanted a reply or a kiss.

"I mean what you thought I meant," Reiko replied, "I mean that I want to be your girlfriend and that I want to kiss you as well-," It was typical she picked up on his desire, "-and I also mean what I said about Haruka."

"So…you like me?"

"Yes. I like you."

Makoto lowered his face to hers, breath teasingly cool against her skin. "Okay," he murmured, "Good. I'd sort of like to kiss you now."

Before realising it, Reiko had nodded and pulled Makoto down to her. Their lips touched briefly, like a spark, a shiver that delighted both their senses.

"And again." Makoto whispered shamelessly.

"You'll get sick." She warned, but he didn't listen.

He had already crashed their lips together, inhaling when she exhaled. Her hips turned under him, hands returning his grip with equal strength. They moved in unison, minding nothing but each other for the precious short moments it took for Reiko to become breathless.

When they parted, her cheeks were flushed red while her eyes remained closed. He was lucky that she was so accepting of change, or else he risked being on the receiving end of a terrifying glare. The look she wore now, so sweet and content, was in stark contrast to the stoic mask she offered others.

"I mean it," Reiko insisted half-heartedly, "You _will_ get sick."

"I appreciate the concern, but I'm already sick."

"Wha- Oh, Makoto, don't even think-!"

He grinned down at her, unabashed as he concluded, "I'm sick with love."

"I'm not sure if you can say that to me." Reiko decided.

"Why not?" Makoto wondered.

At last, he sat up, pulling Reiko with him. Though she looked a mess, Makoto felt an inkling of pride knowing her discomposure was partly his fault. He had always considered it an honour to be the one who knew her best, to be let in. Knowing Haruka had probably helped him handle someone as serious and introverted as she was, while knowing Makoto was probably why Reiko could stand going to school every day.

Her reply brought his thoughts back on track. "You can't say that," Reiko elaborated, "_Unless_ you're my boyfriend."

He managed a slow, awkwardly endearing smile. "I was kinda hoping I could be."

She raised an eyebrow, looking critical. "_Could?_ I wasn't kidding, you know. I _do_ like you – and you know what that means?"

"No?" Makoto admitted, wondering if he should have.

"It means," she declared most conclusively, her hands reaching across the distance for his, "We have to go on a date this weekend."

There was no room for refusal – which was just Reiko's style, and didn't bother Makoto in the least. His only conceivably reasonable reply was a bland, "Of course." He was, understandably and for good reason, largely inattentive.

The distraction may have seemed small – his fingers wound through hers – but it was more than enough reason to smile.

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><p><strong>Well it only took me like a month to write, which has got to be a new record. Glad it's finally finished and uploaded~ I hope the characterization is not <em>too<em> bad, but it's my first time writing a scene revolving solely around Makoto. Also, Reiko was a bit of tricky character to write, so I hope you guys (and girls) all found her likeable-ish.**

**Thanks for reading please feel free to leave a review!**


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